Love Ribbons
by Sanded Silk
Summary: Everyone has one. It's just that I can see them.


The idea for this story popped into my head during philosophy class today...no connection there whatsoever.

**I own this story. The characters. The plot. The idea. HAH.**

--Sanded Silk

* * *

Love ribbons have covered this world for as long as I can remember. I have one, attached to my wrist--it's been there since as long as I can remember. White and unmarked, it trails along the ground, out the door, and into the world.

I think these ribbons connect people who are fated to fall in love with each other. Most couples I've encountered who seem to love each other have a unique ribbon connecting them together. But when I glance downstairs at my parents fighting and see my mother's purple ribbon and my father's sea-green ribbon extending in opposite directions, I give my own ribbon a yank and wonder if my guess is true.

Sometimes, when I yank my ribbon, I feel someone--or something--yanking back on the other end. It makes me feel even lonelier, and I grab the ribbon with both hands, and I cry into my arms like a baby.

I go to school, I guess. Not to lay a foundation for my future or anything--just to get away from the wreck that is my home. Sometimes I wonder if I should tell my parents that I see their differing ribbons, and that they would be better off if they divorced and pursued their ribbons to find the people they loved. But then I remember that they can't see the ribbons. No one can see the ribbons.

Every day, my feet take me to the bus stop, and into the bus. My rear end attaches itself to a seat, and my eyes are glued to whatever passes by the window. I see the greyness of the city, and the greyness of the skies, and the greyness of the few trees that sprout between buildings, and I feel so empty inside. I give my ribbon a yank, and sometimes the ribbons yanks back. The loneliness deepens, but I don't feel quite as empty.

I wonder constantly why I don't just cut this vicious cycle and leave this city. I wonder constantly why I don't just follow the ribbon to my heart's content. I wonder constantly what it could possibly lead to. And then I remember that I have parents here--parents who would kill each other once the reason why they stayed together ceases to exist. Once I cease to exist. One of my parents--or both--would die without ever meeting their fated partner, and I thought that was just too pitiful to consider letting happen.

On the bus one morning I was pressing myself against the window and staring at the white ribbon around my wrist. No matter how long I stared at it, no matter how far I tried to sink into the fact that I had someone waiting for me, I couldn't believe any of it. My belief that the ribbon tied me to someone I was fated to love hung by a microscopic thread. After asking a few classmates timidly and being stared at weirdly, I stopped asking other people. I hadn't done any sort of research on these "love ribbons" in any books, or on the Internet. Truth is, I was afraid of what I would find.

I watched a flurry of ribbons flutter by the bus as someone walked by, and felt a yank on the ribbon around my wrist.

At first, I thought I was feeling things. This mysterious person I was connected to never made the first move. But again, I felt the yank, this time harder and more urgent. The ribbon burned brightly. I grabbed it and yanked back with all my strength, something suddenly swelling in me.

_Come for me._

I yanked the ribbon again.

_Come for me...!_

Hot tears poured down my cheeks before I could stop them. In the tunnel of loneliness I finally saw a speck of light.

-o-o-

While I sat in my Algebra 2 class and stared out the window, the intercom screeched on, scaring everyone. The principal's terrified voice flooded the classroom, freezing everyone in the school.

"Students! Staff! Visitors! This is a code red! _A code re-_" Her voice was cut off by a gunshot. Whether it came from the intercom or from right outside the classroom, I couldn't tell. Silence gripped the room, before the girl next to me screamed.

While everyone ran aimlessly in panic, I felt myself floating out of my chair and saw my hands ease my body down under a table. It was like a dream, where someone else seemed to be controlling my body. My ribbon tightened around my wrist. The person on the other end was yanking again. Aimlessly, I took the ribbon in my fingers and tugged back.

The door burst open, and a gunshot screamed through the classroom, shattering the window and my teacher's skull. He thudded to the ground, blood spurting out and gushing onto the floor in rivulets.

The rest of the class screamed harder at the scene and crowded against the walls. I couldn't move. Someone grabbed my arm and tried to pull me out of the way, but I couldn't budge.

Four high-school-aged boys walked into the room, draped from head to toe in coarse black. They walked weightlessly into the room despite the weapons they wore in their clothes that weighed them down, cocking and aiming their guns at anyone who moved. I watched, on my knees--not the boys, but my love ribbon.

I could feel it shortening, tightening. Golden symbols appeared in the burning white, deep and definite. I grabbed the white-hot fabric and yanked with all my might, and one of the boys stopped.

He wore thick black gloves, long and bulky. But from the hem of one of his gloves flowed his love ribbon. Glowing white, with golden symbols carved deep into the light.

The ribbon fell from my fingers as I stared for the first time at the person my ribbon tied me to.

It was still shrinking, still tightening. The young man switched his gun to the hand with my ribbon tied to it, and with his free hand, he grasped the ribbon and yanked. My wrist jerked violently, and I fell forward from underneath the desk I was under. The ribbon was getting shorter still, and growing so brightly that I was sure everyone could see it. I pushed myself back to my knees and looked up--straight into the mask of the young man with my ribbon tied to his wrist.

He did something no gunman should do--he laid his gun down on the ground, and knelt down before me, raising the top half of his mask to reveal only smoky green eyes and a few locks of curling burnt-copper hair.

I was still unbelieving. With both hands I grasped the ribbon, which was now measurable in inches, and held onto it tightly. I think he smiled then.

Still crouching before me, he curled a gloved finger under my chin, examined my face like he was considering whether to buy me or not. I would have been bubbling over with joy and bathing in the light at the mouth of my cave of loneliness, but I was too nervous to feel happy. People around me were getting increasingly confused.

"Hey," The young man said. His voice was quiet, but I could hear it above all of the yelling.

"H-Hi." My voice was rusty. When was the last time I had used it?

"You know," He said conversationally, shifting on his haunches. "I just woke up this morning, and decided that I wanted to meet you."

I didn't know what to say. He definitely smiled then.

"So tell me," He said, still conversationally, as if he didn't know that the police were on their way. "Why do you keep yanking on this ribbon?" He raised the wrist with the ribbon tied around it.

"Y-You can see it?" I was flabbergasted.

"Sure I can. Do you have the same problem?"

"...Problem? I guess so."

"You avoided my question," He said teasingly, and leaned in closer. His mouth and nose was still covered by the bottom half of his black cloth mask.

Before he could ask anything else, police sirens began bouncing around in the classroom from outside the broken window. He turned his head quickly like an animal on alert mode, and stood up. The other boys with him also stopped, turning their heads like animals smelling danger.

He glanced down at me. I think he saw the plea on my face, because he bent down and hefted me up in his arms like I was a pillow of feathers.

"All right, boys, let's go," He said casually, and made to swing out the window.

"Whoa!" One yelled, reaching out. "That girl...?"

"No questions," Said the young man I was tied to. "Let's go."

He jumped out the window before anyone could say anything. As we plummeted towards the sidewalk, I felt like I was flying.

* * *

**A/N: **Soooo.....yeah. I put this under fairy tale because I didn't know where else to put it.

Should I fix this up, maybe warp it a bit, and change it into a multichapter story? If I do, though, it will take awhile to finish, 'cause I got two other stories lined up before this one.

Looove ribbons. Yeah.

--Sanded Silk


End file.
